One person said: The essence of Wuhou Qimen lies not in Qimen, but in Wuhou.

Lu Linglong took the phone, carefully read through the entire entry, then looked up at Lu Jin, a flash of sudden understanding in her eyes. Her tone was playful yet knowing, with a hint of probing: "Oh—I understand now. Grandpa, you went to the company today, didn't you? Was it this Director Zhuge who gave you a hard time?"

She tilted her head, then immediately dismissed the idea, muttering to herself, "Wait a minute, with your popularity, sir, you're always treated like royalty wherever you go, aren't you? Won't you be targeted?"

Lu Jin looked into her great-granddaughter's clear gray-blue eyes and gave a wry smile.

That wry smile contained helplessness, composure, and a hint of barely perceptible pride—not pride in himself, but pride that such a person could emerge in this era.

He reached out and ruffled Lu Linglong's hair, his large, veiny hand gently patting the light pink strands.

"Linglong, Linglong, is that what you think? Although Grandfather is angry, he wouldn't speak ill of someone behind their back. He didn't make things difficult for me—I, Lu Jin, respect this pillar of the nation. He was polite and professional from beginning to end, speaking flawlessly, yet every word he uttered convinced you. Your Grandfather has lived to be a hundred years old, and this is the first time he's been rendered speechless without feeling ashamed."

He waved his hand, as if trying to shake off the complicated emotions swirling in his mind: "Of course, that's not the point! Go to Baiyun Temple now—and by the way, call your older cousin while you're at it, and tell the younger generation to keep in touch. Starting this year, everyone needs to take the civil service exam. Even temporary staff in the company are welcome, the legitimate kind who get in through the proper exam. Stop wasting your time loafing around and doing nothing! Get yourselves working to improve yourselves and raise your awareness! Do you hear me?"

Lu Linglong stuck out her tongue, her feet already marking the escape route.

As she jogged outside, she called back, "I know, Grandpa! Don't forget to eat! No matter how angry you are, you have to eat! We'll definitely try our best to pass the exam—but if we don't, there's nothing we can do. We're not born to succeed, after all!"

She ran to the door, then suddenly seemed to remember something. She grabbed the doorframe with one hand and peeked back in, winking at Lu Jin: "Oh, right, Grandpa, isn't it a coincidence? I specially roasted a big sweet potato for you today. It's right there on the kitchen stove. Don't forget to eat it!"

After saying that, the figure flashed and the sound of footsteps echoed as they ran away down the corridor.

Lu Jin stared at the empty doorway, remained silent for a moment, then shook his head with a wry smile and muttered to himself, "That brat."

He leaned back in his armchair, closed his eyes, and rested for a moment. Outside the window, it was completely dark, and the shadow of the old locust tree was cast in the courtyard under the moonlight, like a light ink painting.

He took out his phone, scrolled to the contact list, and pressed the dial button.

The phone rang a few times before being answered. Zhang Zhiwei's gentle and composed voice came from the other end, like a breeze drifting from Longhu Mountain, neither hurried nor impatient, neither hot nor cold.

"Old Lu, judging from your tone—you're angry. You're over a hundred years old, don't get angry so easily. Your health is important; we old folks can't be replaced easily."

Lu Jin rolled her eyes, switched the phone to her other ear, and said irritably, "Alright, you old fox, be normal for once. Stop worrying about me all the time, it scares me. Go back to your old self—I still prefer your previous rebellious self!"

On the other end of the phone, Zhang Zhiwei coughed lightly twice, his voice switching from the previous gentle and kind tone to a more casual one, his tone carrying a hint of helplessness after being disliked, but his composure remained unchanged: "Look at you, Lao Lu, I only care about you occasionally, and you're not even happy about it—it's really disheartening. Changing the subject—so, is the matter settled?"

"That's more like it, that's the image of a cunning old Taoist priest like you."

Lu Jin nodded in satisfaction, then sat up straight, his playful expression fading, and his tone becoming more serious. "It's done. Let me get to the point. This Director Zhuge truly deserves to be called a pillar of the nation. His words were so sincere, wholeheartedly devoted to the country, the Party, and the people. I, Lu Jin, don't have that ability, nor that level of ideological awareness. I'm not on the same level as him; I can only sit there and be lectured by a junior—but the key is, I'm completely convinced. Not a single word he said was empty boasting or platitudes; every single one of his statements was genuine, leaving you with no room for criticism."

He sighed and continued, his speech quickening slightly, clearly afraid of forgetting the main point: "Of course, Director Zhuge still gave me face. He gave me a heads-up in his personal capacity, and I'll pick out the key points for you. First—your Luotian Grand Ceremony at Longhu Mountain should be held normally, without any burden. However, this might be used as a breakthrough point to rectify the world of supernatural beings."

Director Zhuge said it himself; this is the order from above, and they are just following orders, focusing on this point. Secondly—the so-called Eight Extraordinary Skills, like my Tongtian Talisman—the state says these are all intangible cultural heritage. Do you understand what that means? They belong to the state and the people, not to any one person's private property.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone.

I wasn't choked up; I was carefully digesting the weight of every word in those words.

Then Lu Jin slowly spoke, his voice still calm and indifferent, but if you listened carefully, you could hear a faint bitterness and a deeper self-mockery: "It seems that the country will take this opportunity to rectify the world of supernatural beings—you old Taoist priest, you'll have to worry about this endlessly."

Oh, right, I almost forgot—I just checked, and it's already been published online.

Director Zhuge is now the Deputy Secretary of the Party Leadership Group and Deputy Director of the Jiangxi Provincial Department of Culture and Tourism, and concurrently serves as a first-level inspector of Jiangxi Province. Wow, that's real power! He's also the Director of the Company's Party Committee Inspection Office, under dual leadership, with direct jurisdiction over both.

Even that fat Zhao Fangxu voluntarily relinquished power—in short, to put it simply: he's in charge of us. Whether in the world of supernatural beings or in government agencies, he's our direct superior. He controls everything, from top to bottom, inside and out.

After hearing this, Zhang Zhiwei suddenly laughed.

The laughter was soft and brief, but it was exceptionally clear in the hall of the old house.

His laughter carried a clarity and composure that only comes with living a century: "Old Lu, our generation all consider ourselves geniuses. We have a certain strength and status in the world of supernatural beings and in society, and a certain voice. Now look—we finally know what it means to be outmatched. Zhuge Ming, I, Zhang Zhiwei, am convinced."

Having lived for over a hundred years, this is the first time I've ever had to admit defeat to a young man in his twenties. But perhaps it's not a bad thing—I've already thrown caution to the wind, so I don't care anymore. I thought cooperating with the company would guarantee everything, but now even the government is involved. What can a centenarian like me, a Taoist master to put it nicely, or to put it bluntly, nearing the end of my life, do?